


Window to the soul

by neunundneunzig



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e07 Digestivo, Eye Gouging, Eye Licking, Eye Sex, Eye Trauma, Eye socket fucking, Fucked Up, M/M, Object Penetration, Porn, Skull Fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 13:25:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12842121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neunundneunzig/pseuds/neunundneunzig
Summary: Will gets his eye removed at Muskrat Farm. While he and Hannibal stay at a safehouse, Hannibal gains a fascination for that part of him.





	Window to the soul

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE do not begin to read if you have not read the tags. This work is not for everyone. It's probably not for most people. It explicitly contains Will losing his eye, and then Hannibal kissing and fucking Will's empty eye socket.
> 
> If I got details on enucleation wrong, I apologize. I also understand that this is unsafe and unsanitary and think no one should do it I'm real life.

Will felt hazy with exhaustion, the exhaustion stronger at having to hear Mason talk on and on. Some part of him dearly wished Hannibal’s dinner wasn’t interrupted. He would very much prefer dying at his hands rather than Mason’s lapdogs. And the bastard wouldn’t have the satisfaction of his face. 

And to think of Hannibal being eaten. It was poetic of course. However, he didn’t want to name what he felt at the notion of Mason being the one to have that honor. It wasn’t right. His blood boiled as Cordell explained his preparations for Hannibal’s hands. 

When the man leaned down to apply lotion to his face, Will lunged. He felt his teeth break through something gelatinous, and knew at once it wasn’t the flesh he was aiming for. He pulled back, the aqueous humor of Cordell’s eyes dripping from his mouth. 

Mason frowned, “No pajama party for you Mr. Graham. We’ll be feeding you to the pigs as soon as Cordell removes your face. I’m sure you’ve made a good impression with him for it.”

Will licked the salty mix of fluids and blood from his lips. Hannibal beamed at him, radiant with amusement and joy. 

“I thought the bible spoke against the code of an eye for an eye.” Hannibal said with some amusement lacing his voice. Will was, after all, in many ways still very much his protege.

“It can be hard to turn the other cheek when you don’t have cheeks,” Mason turned to Will, “Maybe I’ll think about it once I get that part fixed.” 

* * *

Will didn’t struggle in the gurney. He didn’t have much room to as the restraints held him so tightly. Not being able to move his head was critical for this. And to think for a moment he thought he would manage by after Hannibal was stopped. He felt an odd satisfaction knowing that if Hannibal didn’t break free, the face Mason got would be scarred by him.

Cordell leaned over him, eye still bandaged, “Good news and bad news. The good news is, until recently, a full face transplant was almost unthinkable.” 

He pulled away to adjust the monitors. Will wondered partially where Mason found such a specimen. It was a thin intersection, men with the desire and creativity for such actions, and the technical knowledge to achieve them. He wouldn’t classify this brute alongside Hannibal, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. 

Cordell hummed, “But medical science is a fast-moving train. First, I'll lift your pretty mush right off, and then I'll expose the blood vessels and major connections of Mason's face, then lay yours straight on top.”

Will couldn’t move much, but felt himself still more. He had gone in with the idea that he would be horrifically mutilated after this, likely far worse than Mason. But that wasn’t the full of it.

His corpse, it seemed, would be horrifically mutilated.

“You really are done, you know.” Cordell had no half tone of regret in his voice, “That's the bad news.”

Will felt warmth on his neck as Cordell spread wax on his neck, and the edges of his face to remove the excess hair. He kept his eyes glued to the ceiling. 

“I’m getting this through with now, so that it’s less red by the time we’re ready. Not that it will matter much to you.”

As the wax cooled and dried, Cordell went about the business of removing Will’s eyelashes. He teared up, a basic reflex. He didn’t consider it showing weakness.

It felt strange when he was done, a nakedness almost. He blinked some, trying to adjust to the feeling as Cordell ripped off the wax. He tried to focus on anything but the thought of the approaching horror of his face being ripped in a similar manner.

“Ah. And one more thing on the matter.” He looked at Will, “I’ve been told I will also be receiving a donation from your misfortune. It will be performed before your surgery, to ensure I am at my peak performance.”

Will’s blood ran cold, knowing what was coming as Cordell numbed his face partially. He waited momentarily until Will was incapable of moving his face. He then placed blunt metal hooks in, holding his eyelid open. He cut through the membrane, freeing the eye from the conjunctiva. 

Will wanted to stop looking, but with it held open, he was incapable of not seeing. The steel of the medical instruments glinted the florescent light down on him. 

Cordell sliced the muscles with ease and expertise, close to the eye as possible, as the facial muscles may be needed in part for the transplant. 

Will breathed shallow. He could not move still, but the numbness faded fast. He could feel as Cordell rotated the eye out of it’s socket. He tried to close his eye, but couldn’t. He had no choice but to watch firsthand as it was pulled unnaturally away from his body. He saw the gloved tips of the man’s fingers as he delicately pulled the orb out.

Cordell took the gleaming scissors. Will didn’t know what he registered first: The sickening dull noise of them cutting through muscle and the optic nerve, the dull but aching pain of it, or the sudden lack of visual input as his eye was taken from his body.

His other eye would not yet close, and he watched as Cordell held his eye, looking delicate and small in the man’s hands. He regarded it, and placed it somewhere out of Will’s sight. 

* * *

Will waited, hoping Hannibal would arrive. He could have fled, leaving Will to die. He could have never been freed, but he didn’t expect that. If he wasn’t free, that was only temporary.

Mason was wheeled up beside him, on his good side. He wasn’t grateful to see him, and didn’t fully register as he spoke. Cordell exchanged short words with him in a steady tone, eye no longer bandaged, but at odds with his other.

Mason got louder as he was put under, “Have you accepted Jesus Christ, Mr. Graham? Do you have faith? I do. I’m free... Hallelujah.”

Will had faith in Hannibal. It wasn’t too late yet. His eye may be stolen, but his face and his life was still intact for the moment. He felt half like praying, and at once despised himself for elevating Hannibal to that level for even a second. 

Cordell stuck another needle into Will, “Unlike before, this will immobilize your body, but you will feel everything. I’m going to cut your face off without anaesthesia, Mr. Graham.”

Will made himself not struggle, thinking of the pull of the wax before, and knowing the sensation would be nothing like that. He wanted nothing more at this moment than to be able to wade into the quiet of the stream.  


* * *

“I’m very sorry for not reaching you sooner.” Hannibal said. Will noted a degree of genuine sadness in his voice. He doubted it came from a place of concern for his wellbeing, rather regretting not being the one to cause the damage.

It had been a few days. Will had followed him to a safehouse, where they would stay to heal. There was no way to trace it back to Hannibal, and he hid his steps from any authorities. Will convinced Alana easily to not pursue. She agreed as long as Hannibal did the same.

Will didn’t want to talk about their fate. He wasn’t entirely certain he would stay with Hannibal after what he attempted. He only had the thinnest thought that he wouldn’t try it again.

“I’m sure.” He sighed, purposefully touching the clean wound on his forehead, “Tell me, if you found me earlier, would you have eaten my eye?”

“Yes. Although it would not be quite the same without the whole head cooked. I am not sure if I would attempt svio with a meat other than lamb.” He gave it honest consideration.

“Are you going to try to eat my brain again?” Will didn’t have any fight left in himself, and his voice told it easily.

“No. The moment for that meal has passed.”

“And for... svio?”

“Would not be the same. The eyeball is the treat of the dish.”

Will regarded him, moving to a chair and sitting, bones grateful for the rest. He felt somehow comfortable in Hannibal’s presence. He had to remind himself of the horror he was nearly subjected to just prior, and the horrors he definitely was before then. 

“We’re toxic for one another, someday I hope it kills us both, and no one else has to get hurt from it.”

Hannibal sat across from him, and Will was immediately taken back, the room morphing into the dark atmosphere of Hannibal’s old office.The lights dimmed through the curtains.

“I will not keep you if you are unwilling to be kept.”

“I can walk out the door now and you’ll still keep me. You saw to that from the moment we met.”

Hannibal smiled, “There were many exits for you along the way. And now you understand me.”

“I understand you.” Will nodded, accepting it for the trap it was, “But I don’t partake in your brand of hedonism.”

“No. You’re a much baser creature in some ways. Perhaps there are times I will meet you on your level.”

Will gave a dry laugh, “You may act impartial. We both know you’re emotional. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t driven by your heart while planted in your pathology.”

Hannibal smiled, “And why else do you believe I chose to consume your brain?”

“You’re asking me... to tell you your design.”

“No. We both know it. Knowing we both have that is enough to me. I am understood.”

Will looked him over and sighed. He decided on a change of topic, “Come on. It’s been a bit since we’ve dressed your wounds.”

They moved to the bathroom. Hannibal stripped, clinical. They had gotten into a silent rhythm of caring for one another physically during this time. Will followed Hannibal’s clear instructions on how to treat him when he could not manage it himself.

Will cleaned the brand on his back carefully. The skin was flaking and pink. Partial scabs cracked, oozing out plasma. Will didn’t speak a word, knowing none were necessary. He knew the branding was humiliating for proud Hannibal. It would be removed as soon as he was well enough in the face of other injuries he faced. Will was keeping it clean and free of infection until then. 

He went over Hannibal’s cuts and wounds, cleaning them as well to be sure. Hannibal did the same for him, paying particular care to the mark he himself left on his forehead. They both knew it would scar. Will was sure Hannibal was pleased with it. 

Hannibal traced his finger over the lid of Will’s vacant eye. The lashes had yet to grow back, despite beginning to do so on the other.

“Such a shame. I always considered you to have lovely eyes.”

“You could have taken it back out of Cordell.”

“I considered it. However, it would not have left me time for other necessary steps.”

Will nodded and dressed himself. Hannibal’s clothes from the safehouse fit him. He noticed after the second day that it was because they were picked specifically for him. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to afford Hannibal the pleasure of knowing Will knew for sure. 

He made himself tea and went back to his chair, just resting and healing. Hannibal had offered to make broth, which Will found to be a threat. They ate sparingly, Hannibal not well enough to cook on the level he would prefer. Will, not willing to trust his cooking again.

Hannibal poured himself tea and sat by Will.

“I forgive you. Truly.” Will sighed, “I just need time to trust you again.”

“Forgiveness does not mean much from either of us.” He sighed, admitting, “Even if you had not pulled a knife on me, I would have still eaten your brain.”

“Of course. You needed to consume me.” He looked at him, “I’m sorry this version of keeping me doesn’t fit your fair for the hedonistically dramatic.”

“It could very easily.”

Will looked to him, curious.

Hannibal set his tea down. He moved over and cupped Will’s face. He was braced for violence when Hannibal pressed his lips to Will’s. He kissed gently and chastely.

Will accepted it without pause. It was a natural progression. This was the only part of his life left for Hannibal to try to claim. They kissed for a long moment. 

Hannibal broke the kiss and looked at him, then kissed him again. He started at his lips and slowly kissed upwards, to Will’s missing eye. It was kind, for a moment. Will was grateful for some form of reassurance on losing it.

Then Hannibal kissed the eyelid again, slower. Will felt a warm, strange feeling wrack through him. This was a definite taboo Hannibal was hinting at, a ground he never began to consider. A sense of wrongness swept through him, followed by a dull yet sickening excitement. 

The eye was the window to the soul. Of course Hannibal would try to push through that, to make a place for himself physically in Will where he already had mentally.

Hannibal kissed his eye again, much more like he was kissing another mouth. His lips pressed to the cusp of the upper lid. It was slow and sensual. 

“Hannibal...” Will whispered, just struck. His eye opened a bit and Hannibal took that opportunity to deepen the kiss, his bottom lip sliding in, between Will’s eyelids. Will closed his eye then, feeling it against the delicate skin, just weak at the new sensation.

Hannibal held it for a moment before moving to whisper in Will’s opposite ear, “Is this hedonistically dramatic enough for you?”

He began to kiss below his ear at his neck, his hand trailing up Will’s face to his eye. Will opened it immediately for him.

Gently, Hannibal trailed the shape of his lids with his forefinger. He then moved it slowly inside the empty socket. Will gasped sharply, sensations that hadn’t occurred to him before as Hannibal traced inside him. He shivered as Hannibal hit a sensitive spot on his neck. The man could tell, continuing to kiss there, deeper, as he mapped out the inside of Will’s socket with his fingers.

He pulled away, looking over Will again. He smiled softly, “May I?”

Will was taken aback, “Months, years of shaping and using my mind how you saw fit, without the barest thought to my desires. And now you ask for consent when it’s my body?”

“Ah, Will. We are, in many ways, equals, no? I have been shaped by you as well. And this matter... If I proceed without ensuring, may leave you in a very strange state. I have not considered this part of the body in such a way before.”

“No, of course not. Can’t eroticise your meals.”

“The connection I am looking for now is not purely driven by lust. I would not take you so lightly. This is-”

“Intimacy.” Will nodded.

Hannibal smiled, then kissed his lips again gently before kissing his lid. Will didn’t hesitate, opening his eye and himself to Hannibal.

Hannibal licked inside the cavity, exploring it again more fully. Will found himself becoming aroused by the intimacy as much as the strangeness of the act. Hannibal was transfixed. He moved a hand up, curling a fist in Will’s hair as he kissed into his orbit like a lover.

Will found himself moving what remained of the muscle, trying to provide more sensation for the both of them. He didn’t expect to feel it so much.

Hannibal made a soft noise against him, and Will groaned, not sure if he was embarrassed by his reaction as Hannibal’s thick tongue probed at him in a way he would have never thought. He decided to let go.

“Oh god Hannibal.” He muttered. The grip in his hair tightened.

Hannibal pulled off. Will wanted to protest for a moment. He stood as Will stayed seated. Will could clearly see the erection he held. Hannibal pulled himself out with the same full confidence he had in all things.

Will’s logical brain caught up with him.

“You... you can’t. You can’t. You, there’s no-”

“Do you want me to?” Hannibal pulled himself out, “Do you want me to do something so filthy and strange to you, something that will match what I’ve done to your mind, your life?”

Will slipped his hand into his pants, unbearably aroused at the thought of letting his body be so claimed. He let out a soft groan, then looked.

Hannibal wasn’t too thick, so it wouldn’t be impossible. He was long, and cut, which surprised him. Will leaned in, easing himself into the idea.

Hannibal moaned as Will sucked the head, very aware that he’d never fellatiated another man. He sucked desperately, bobbing his head some. Hannibal grabbed his hair again and could feel his excitement at it. He saw Will touch himself under the clothing, just caught up in every second of it.

Will pulled off after a moment and opened his eyelids. The remaining eye stared up at Hannibal. Trusting. Loving. 

Hannibal rubbed Will’s cheekbone gently, caressing him for a moment before pulling the skin down on it slightly and slowly sliding himself into the warm, wet, strange opening of Will’s eye socket. 

Will made a noise like an orgasm at the pentration, stroking himself faster, just overcome with the closeness and taboo of the act.

Hannibal kept a steady hand in Will’s hair, making sure he didn’t move too far back. Although the idea of taking him in such a way was powerful, it was lewd, and not to his tastes. He prefered Will alive currently, as it were.

Will’s hips rolled. He looked up at Hannibal again. The man groaned as the muscles in the empty socket moved against his sensitive cock. Will repeated the motion, looking down, then up again.

Hannibal stroked the majority of the length, as it could not safely fit. He gave only the shallowest of thrusts, resulting in a desperate noise from Will. He smiled and moved himself in a circle, brushing the walls of the small cavity.

Will grabbed Hannibal’s pant leg with one hand, the other working furiously in his own pants. “Oh fuck oh fuck...” He made noise after a moment, “Fuck Hannibal I can’t... I’m going to come from this... Han... Hannibal...”

Hannibal stroked himself, reminded of the noises Will made as he bled out on the kitchen floor. He gave another miniscule thrust, and had to hold Will back as he moved, orgasming to the sensation.

Hannibal could hardly hold back, feeling how the muscles of his eye gave twitches, trying to move what was no longer there in tandem with his other eye.

He bit his lip, pulling only mostly out before coming in Will’s socket. A glob of it caught the edge and slid down partially, giving him the appearance of a large white tear.

Will was shaking a bit, bringing a hand up to touch his eye. Hannibal put himself back and sat, on the same level as Will. There was no purpose now in making him look up to see him. 

Hannibal kissed his lips again gently, smiling. He regarded only the working eye, “I will clean you. I must insist on sooner rather than later.”

Will nodded, then grabbed Hannibal and kissed him deeply, ferociously. He pulled away and panted softly, then smiled, “Yeah. Definitely needs to be cleaned again.”


End file.
